


There’s Only So Much You Can Do

by Rsbry_Beret



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magic, Magical Tobin Batra, Psychic Abilities, Purple Prose, So ooc I’m sorry, Telepathy, Tobin-centric, Urban Fantasy, Wicca, bc “treat yo self”, but like... not really, look im really just writing this because I love urban fantasy, so no promises about if it’s actually GOOD or not, thats not the point, the point is MAGIC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26074690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rsbry_Beret/pseuds/Rsbry_Beret
Summary: He googled “I can read people's minds” and the internet told him what he was feeling was empathy. Yelp had a ‘top ten metaphysical stores near you’, so Tobin chose the first one and started walking.AkaTobin might be psychic. Leif might have a crush. That might not be the biggest problem, right now.
Relationships: Tobin Batra & Leif Donnelly, Tobin Batra & Original Character, Tobin Batra/Leif Donnelly
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	1. Virgo

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for swearing :)
> 
> Look. 
> 
> I have NO PLAN. I have never written anything without a plan. But here I am. I hope, for all our sakes, that I don’t abandon this. Sorry in advance if I do :(

_ Virgo- _

_ New opportunities are knocking on your door! With all the change coming, remember to keep your feet on the ground, your head held high, and your heart in the right place.  _

  
  


It all went to shit on a Tuesday. 

San Francisco was already fucking weird, alright? Tobin didn’t think he could be blamed for not noticing, immediately, that it was weirder than normal. The city always smelled a little like shit, like most cities do, so he was used to blocking that out, so he couldn’t be blamed for not noticing the sudden cinnamon, smoke, bergamot smell.

And fog comes on quick sometimes. It wasn’t unusual for it to be clear one moment and then the next, Tobin wasn’t able to see a foot ahead of him,  _ whatever _ , okay, climate change. 

But then the streets were empty and his steps were echoing, the only noise he could hear, and his head started hurting like there was someone behind his forehead screaming  _ let me out _ , and he stumbled and fell to his knees and was panting on the concrete, blind, he was-

_ -listen to me, no, listen to us, don’t you hear the people shouting in the streets, for mercy, justice, help, help us, why aren’t you listening, can’t you hear- _

-awake at home. 

-0-0-0-

He woke up on Tuesday and everything was the same, but also entirely different. 

Tobin didn’t remember his dreams, not really, nothing beyond a lingering feeling of fear or sweat or peace. 

That’s how he knew it wasn’t a dream. 

But he got up anyway, put on his clothes like he remembered doing, ate cereal alone while Leif was in the shower like he remembered doing, and when Leif walked out of his room and looked Tobin in the eyes, he saw-

_ -should I tell him, no, no, maybe things will be different today, I hope he notices, I hope he doesn’t, I’m going to be late, there’s so much to do, god knows how much I have to do- _

-something else. 

He pretended it was a dream, but he knew it wasn’t. 

It was easier to pretend, though. 

-0-0-0-

After work, Leif wanted to go for drinks, and Tobin did, too. 

Still, “I can’t,” and he couldn’t, not really, not when people kept looking at him all day in the office, and he kept seeing  _ something,  _ their thoughts, their memories, their innermost souls, hallucinations. 

Leif shrugged, and Tobin didn’t need to look at him to see he was disappointed. He let him walk away, anyway. 

He googled “I can read people's minds” and the internet told him what he was feeling was  _ empathy.  _ Yelp had a ‘top ten metaphysical stores near you’, so Tobin chose the first one and started walking. 

He didn’t believe in any of this. Magic wasn’t real, superpowers weren’t either, it was bullshit, tourist-trap shops with silk curtains and overpriced crystal balls. It wasn’t real. He didn’t think it was. 

But either it was real, or Tobin was going insane. And maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t want to be crazy, really didn’t, so if he had to believe that he was Professor X, then he would. If only for his own peace of mind, if nothing else. 

-0-0-0-

The first place was ridiculous, like he thought it would be. So was the second, and the third, and the seventh. It was already nearly midnight, and Tobin had work tomorrow, but he found an eighth place just on his walk home, no more than a few blocks from his and Leif’s apartment. 

The windows were curtained so he couldn’t see in, but the sign above the door had a picture of weighing scales and a simple font reading “The Library”

One more couldn’t hurt, anyway. 

He stepped in and it felt different than all the other places, right away. The room smelled earthy, sage and dirt and rain. It was lit mostly from candles, but there were a few fairy lights scattered in corners, and all of that wasn’t anything new, most places had that, the flickering lighting and warm colors, but it  _ felt  _ different here, intuitively. Tobin could tell it was different. 

The walls and floor were clean hardwood, no carpets and no draped silk and no beaded curtains. Bookshelves took up most of the floor space, leaving it feeling cramped in a distinctly non-rustic way. It was not intentional, to make the room feel genuine. Whoever owned the shop really had just run out of space. 

Tables were scattered anywhere there was room and often places where there wasn’t any, piled with books stacked precariously, glittering crystals and normal rocks thrown together in what couldn’t really be called a display. 

Tobin didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he exhaled. 

“September birthday?” Asked a rough voice from his left, face lost in the stacks of shelves. “Early September?”

Tobin frowned, and started wandering to find whoever was talking to him. “Yeah? The eighth.”

A beat of silence, then the voice said again, from his right, “I could tell. The eighth? That’s a good number.” 

Tobin turned a corner and saw an androgynous person sitting on the floor with a small book open in their lap. They didn’t look up at him when he approached. “Why are you here, Virgo?”

“Uh.” Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what to say. “My name’s Tobin.” 

“Why are you  _ here, _ Tobin?” They asked again, and this time they looked up at him, and he saw-

_ -light shifting through leaves, watching the shadows change as the time marched on, hands caked in mud, feet bare against river water, dancing, the moon reflecting in the water and dancing with them- _

-the person blink. 

“Oh,” they said, then stood suddenly, lurching, and they were much taller than Tobin thought, at least a full foot taller, and then they said, “oh,” again, and “Right then, come with me.”

Tobin followed, because what else could he do?

The unnamed person led him through the winding maze of bookshelves, and the two of them came upon a door, and Tobin watched them fumble, awkward, for a set of keys. They opened the door and ushered Tobin inside the dark room, and Tobin was suddenly very aware of the fact that this was a very easy way to be kidnapped, but… he went in anyway. 

They followed closely behind him, and shut the door.

Tobin didn’t have time to be scared before lights flicked on, these ones cool ceiling bulbs like they have most everywhere else, and then the person rushed in front of him and sat in the farthest chair, one that looked like it must have been taken from a dining room set, and they gestured at the matching chair across from them, nearest to Tobin. 

He sat. 

Silence reigned for a moment before the other said “You can call me Parker. Let’s get started, I guess.”

-0-0-0-

Time went… funny, in the back room.

Tobin could have sworn he was there for hours, days, even, listening to everything Parker would tell him about herbs and stones and runes. It sounded silly at first, but then Parker noticed he was drifting and switched to telling stories, folklore from a hundred different cultures. That didn’t seem nearly as weird. Tobin listened hungrily. 

When he stepped out of the shop, it was only 12:30. Somehow, this didn’t come to him as much of a shock. 

At home, Leif was already asleep, apparently deciding to get to bed early. Tobin set two of the white candles Parker had given him on the dining room table, and went to his room, trying not to freak the floorboards and wake Leif up. In his room, Tobin set up his last three candles on his night stand (yellow, white, blue), and put labradorite on his windowsill, and then went to sleep. 

-0-0-0-

He woke up remembering cinnamon and fog. 


	2. Libra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin sat as well, watching Parker stare at their books spread on the table between them before tentatively saying, “when has anything been just anything?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I’m going to try and update this every day, but things are a little crazy right now so that might not work. We’ll see.

_ Libra- _

_ The new moon is a time for beginnings. Start a new project, initiate something- there’s no moment like the present! It’s an especially good time for dreaming.  _

  
  


On Wednesday, Tobin dreams something that isn’t a dream, again. 

He is standing on an abandoned street, not one he recognizes immediately, but one that he probably could place, if he tried. 

He doesn’t try.

Four figures are approaching him slowly, silhouettes hazy through the thick fog. As they come nearer, Tobin sees that they’re four human-shaped creatures, each riding horses- one red, one white, one black, and one pale green. 

He watches them come nearer, but time passes slowly and they seem just as far as they ever were. 

The footsteps of the horses are silent. 

Tobin wakes up in a cold sweat. 

-0-0-0-

Parker is more than a little concerned when Tobin told them about his dream-vision-prophecy-precognition-thing. 

Tobin had figured, yeah, probably it was important. One doesn’t usually have a psychic-related dream and then ignore it. That wasn’t the smartest thing to do. 

Tobin’s subconscious had weight, now. Serious weight. 

Parker was flitting around, grabbing a few books off of shelves and dodging things that fall in the process, instead of just picking them up. Tobin followed in their wake, righting what he could. Parker headed to the back room, and Tobin followed, like he always did. 

“You’re sure, four figures?” asked Parker, then kept going before Tobin could answer. “Four figures on horses. You know, maybe it’s a coincidence! There are plenty of things that ride horses. The four could just be a number.” Parker sat in their chair and sighed.

Tobin sat as well, watching Parker stare at their books spread on the table between them before tentatively saying, “when has anything been  _ just _ anything?”

Parker looked up at Tobin and-

_ -fear fear fear- _

-said, “That’s what I’m scared of.”

They picked up one of the books and flipped through it. Tobin craned his head to read the title, ‘Book of Revelation’.

“I’m not Christian,” he said without thinking. 

“No,” answered Parker absentmindedly, still searching for something. “No, but lots of people are.” They stopped. “Here. Here it is.”

Parker flipped the book around so Tobin could read it, if he wanted. He didn’t want to, though, just waited for Parker to explain it. 

“I’m not saying this is definitely what you saw. It could be lots of things. But… this is probably what it was.” Parker tapped the page before continuing, “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

“Oh, shit.”

Tobin had been magic for literally one day, and already there was an apocalypse going on? ‘Jesus Christ’ was probably an inappropriate swear at the moment but, God, for real?

“Yeah.” Parker cleared their throat. “The one on a red horse with a sword is War. The one on the black horse with a balance is famine. The black one is death, and the white one with the bow and crown is… debated, actually.”

Tobin tilted his head and started to read the passage before Parker started talking again, this time rushed and quieter, more like thinking out loud than anything else. “Some people say it represents Christ, other people say it represents the Antichrist. Then  _ other _ people say it’s pestilence, other people say it’s pollution… the figure is described in the text as a conqueror, which, in terms of  _ vague bad things, _ is really incredibly vague.”

Tobin nodded and opened his mouth to say something, before closing it and nodding again. There wasn’t much he could say. 

They both sat in silence for a lingering second. 

“It’s almost 8:30. I know you woke up early to tell me this, but you really should get to work.” Parker was still staring, eyes cloudy, at the words. Tobin stood slowly, unsure of if he should leave them like this. 

Parker didn’t move an inch as Tobin walked out of the back room, weaved through the shelves and out the front door, and made his way down the street. 

Even once Tobin couldn’t see them anymore, he knew. 

-0-0-0-

“Where were you this morning, Tobes?” asked Leif when Tobin reached his desk with four minutes to spare. “You were already gone when I woke up. Don’t tell me you’re an early riser, now?”

Tobin thought about his… precognition. He thought about the lingering smell of bergamot that felt burned into his skin, and the black tourmaline under his pillow that didn’t do anything to help.

He laughed. “Nah, man, that’s you. Just forgot to pick something up from the store yesterday, set a reminder in my phone so I could grab it this morning.”

Leif smiled and accepted it easily. “Cool. What’d you get?”

Tobin hesitated, searched his pockets for something and pulled out a loop of leather cord with a jasper pendant.

Leif’s smile flickered. He pulled back the arm that was reaching for Tobin’s shoulder. “That’s pretty. For a date or something?”

“No,” Tobin replied, a little thrown by Leif suddenly acting all weird. “It’s for me.”

“Oh.” His face brightened again. “Cool, cool. I like it.”

Tobin tried to meet his eyes, but Leif was looking steadfastly at his computer keyboard. “Thanks.”

-0-0-0-

“Okay, so, the apocalypse is coming, and I’m supposed to stop it?”

Tobin had never really appreciated small spaces before Parker’s back room. It could fit the table and two chairs, plus an extra bookshelf shoved right against the wall, but it wasn’t much larger than a janitor's closet in actuality. With two people inside, it felt smaller. With two people and sixteen books, it felt  _ much _ smaller. 

“I think.” Parker opened another bible and shut it again without looking. “I mean, why else would you have a vision about it?”

“Precognition,” Tobin corrected, trying to make out the titles of the books piled between them.  _ New American Standard Bible, Buckland’s Complete Book Of Witchcraft,  _ even, if he was seeing things right,  _ The Book Of Revelations For Dummies. _

Parker made a questioning noise and Tobin clarified, “I’m calling them precognitions. It sounds a little less…”

Parker started just to the left Tobin for a moment, then finished “...magical.”

Tobin shrugged.

The silence stretched. 

_ And stretched.  _

“Anyway,” Tobin said, “anyway, who says I can stop the apocalypse? I hate to break it to you, but I think we missed a few steps already.”

“So you  _ didn’t  _ see the four horsemen?”

“Well. No, I did.”

Parker sighed and pushed back an inch. “There you go, then.” They pushed their glasses up their nose, ran a hand through their course, dark hair. “Look, I’m not exactly an expert on the  _ literal apocalypse, _ alright? You’re cool, Tobin, and you’ve got a real gift. Of course I want to help you with it. But…” They started picking at their fingernails, brown varnish chipping off and falling in flakes to the table. “I don’t know everything. I don’t know what’s happening. I just know that we need to stop it.”

Tobin watched Parker fiddle with their nails. He nodded. “You’re right.” Tobin picked up the  _ For Dummies _ book and opened it to the first page. “I mean, if we don’t fix this, who will?”

-0-0-0-

Later, at night, Tobin would wonder if he could stop this even if he tried. 

He was laying in bed, trying to sleep, but his last precognition was still turning itself over in his head. Eventually he gave up, and got out of bed to sit cross-legged on the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to think. 

His mind kept going back to the first story Parker told him in that back room, about Drunk Jack, who kept trying to outrun the inevitable, and ended up condemned to an afterlife in which he wasn’t even accepted into hell. 

Willow-the-wisp. A hopeless hope. 

Tobin thought about what Leif would say, if he knew what was going on. 

_ I might not be able to help,  _ he would tell him,  _ but I want to be here for you. If you fall, I’ll catch you. And if I can’t catch you, I’ll fall with.  _

Tobin thought about what his mom would say. 

_ Chin up. Some things have to be faced head on.  _

Tobin thought about what his first boyfriend would say.

_ Sometimes, we don’t know what we’re doing. We have to keep trying, though. Fumbling aimlessly in the dark is better than standing still.  _

Tobin thought about what Parker would say.

_ Religion is a lot of things all at once.  _

_ It’s stories, a bunch of stories passed on and changed from interpretation, just like all other stories are. It’s a set of rules, so people know what’s right and what’s wrong, and how to act to be ‘good’. If someone follows a religion, it’s real to them. But there are lots of followers of lots of religions. Some people say they can’t be real all at once, and maybe they’re right. But I think that as long as you believe something hard enough, it’s at least a little bit true.  _

_ So if you think this is how we stop this, then it’s how. It’s as easy as that. _

Tobin took a deep breath, and fell asleep, right there on the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY TIME FOR SOME LORE IF YOU’RE CURIOUS 
> 
> The chapter titles for chapter one, two, and four are the zodiac signs I imagine for Tobin, Parker, and Leif respectively- psst. That’s why Parker’s shop is called the LIBRAry haha.
> 
> There’s going to be seven chapters total, I think, one for each day of the week. I try to match the Wicca weekday correspondences to what happens in each chapter, but I started with Tuesday just because Tuesday is my favorite :)


	3. Aries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s about balance,” Tobin said as soon as he saw Parker’s face.  
> “It’s four in the morning,” Parker replied blearily, stepping aside to let Tobin in the shop nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies, but don’t expect an update tomorrow (maybe the day after?). I should start updating by Saturday at the latest, but Things Are Happening and I’m not getting much free time to write.
> 
> Anyway! This chapter has a little violence I guess? Sorry.

_ Aries- _

_ Trust your intuition. Today, your gut feeling is probably right. Write down your insights and confirm if you were right, but don’t be surprised if your subconscious mind picks things up that your conscious mind didn’t know was set down.  _

  
  


Thursday was fire. 

Tobin saw flames lick up into the fog, the thick stench of smoke overpowering anything else. 

There was only one figure on horseback this time, a startling scarlet that looked like blood. Tobin watched, frozen, as the rider dismounted and swaggered towards him. 

The figure was blurred, smoke bending the harsh lines Tobin knew intuitively that they had. He watched the horseman raise a large sword above their head, didn’t flinch as it was brought down.

The blade plunged into the concrete, and the world-

_ -how could you do this, mommy the bad men are here again, civil blood makes civil hands unclean, if you can shoot you can fight, blood thirst isn’t like normal hunger, help me help- _

-fractured around it. 

Tobin woke up with the soft noise of crackling fire still ringing in his ears. 

-0-0-0-

“It’s about balance,” Tobin said as soon as he saw Parker’s face. 

“It’s four in the morning,” Parker replied blearily, stepping aside to let Tobin in the shop nonetheless.

“And yet you’re still here, hypocrite,” Tobin rebutted. “But that’s not important. It’s about balance.”

Parker started walking to the back room, taking the same winding route as they always did. Tobin followed. “Christianity?” they asked. 

“The universe,” Tobin clarified. 

They both sat. 

“I can’t get rid of them. That’s not possible, and even if it was, I shouldn’t do it. The horsemen- they represent  _ bad _ things, yeah. But the bad things need to exist. It’s not life, otherwise.”

Parker nodded, resting the side of their face against their hand. Tobin started to feel a little bad about showing up in the middle of the night. He kept talking, anyway. 

“So, that’s the big problem with the apocalypse. All the bad things are happening, and all the good things don’t have time to catch up. There’s too much bad, not enough good, the scales tip too far to one side and fall over, and then the world ends.”

Parker yawned. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“Right.” Tobin nodded. “Right. So, I don’t need to get rid of the horsemen. I just need to balance them out. I have to start with War. Today, I think.”

Parker sat up straighter at that. “War’s the second horseman. Shouldn’t you start with the first?”

Tobin shrugged. “I had another precognition. I have to start with War. I-“ Tobin cut himself off, remembering the dream. “I have to start with War,” he repeated lamely. 

Parker looked concerned, and reached out to touch Tobin’s hand. He hadn’t realized it was clenched in a fist until Parker pried his fingers open. 

“How much sleep did you get, Tobin?” They asked softly. 

Tobin lifted his free hand and fiddled with his hoodie string. “Like, two hours. I couldn’t fall back asleep after… after.”

Parker nodded, slowly, then smiled softly, in a sad sort of way. “Well, okay. I couldn’t sleep either. Want me to tell you more folklore?”

Tobin smiled awkwardly, relieved. “You can just call them ‘stories’, you know,” he said, and nodded. 

-0-0-0-

Tobin came back the the shop after work. He felt bad, blowing Leif off again. He was his best friend, it was shitty of him to do that. 

Then again, it was the end of the world. Priorities had to be chosen. 

“Why do you think it’s happening  _ now? _ ” Tobin asked Parker as he shifted through a crate of river stones. 

“Well,” they started, “it could be whenever, I’m pretty sure. That’s the point, I guess, that you don’t know when it’ll be. That being said…” they took a long sip of their earl gray tea. “...you’re kind of an, uhm, beacon.”

Tobin stopped looking for a good rock and sat up straight, still not looking at Parker. “A beacon?” he questioned. 

“Well, you came in here that first day and I could feel the power, like, radiating off of you. It’s how I knew what you could do so fast.” They hesitated. “Probably also why we’re so close after knowing each other for two days.”

Tobin nodded slightly, then turned around to face Parker. “Probably the shared trauma of the oncoming apocalypse helps with the fast-friendship thing, too.”

Parker cracked a lopsided smile. “Yeah,” they agreed, “That too.”

-0-0-0-

Tobin wasn’t sure how exactly he was supposed to fight a horseman of the apocalypse. On some level, he figured, it was more the abstract concept of war that he was fighting, so he probably wouldn’t need to get his hands dirty. 

Then, too, he’d only ever seen War in his precognitions- it’d make sense that he would have to fight them in his mind, too. 

But Tobin wasn’t really a meditation-person. Last night he was able to, but that was fueled from equal parts desperation, exhaustion, and the lack of anything better to do. Now Tobin was sitting on the floor in The Library’s back room (not the chair- he wasn’t sure why, but Tobin knew that the chair was a bad idea) and trying not to fidget. 

He imagined the ocean tide and tried to match his breathing, but that only made him need to pee. 

He tried to focus on his surroundings before letting them pass through him, but then he’d find himself distracted by a passing thought, follow that stranduntik he was lost in a cacophony of  _ thinking _ , get lost in it. 

“Parker,” he called eventually, “I can’t focus.”

Parker made a loud humming noise from the other room.

“I keep getting all turned around in my own head. Following on thought onto the next and the next.”

“Don’t follow!” Parker called, “Lead!”

Tobin frowned, but shut his eyes anyway. 

_ Follow us, _ said something passing through. 

_ No, follow me, _ he replied. 

-0-0-0-

Tobin was back on his foggy street. War was there, waiting for him. They were standing beside their horse, not leaning against her or touching her at all. 

Presenting a united front, mused some part of Tobin’s mind, and he smiled. 

The fire was thick, wilder than it had been last night. Tobin spared a minute to watch it. He wasn’t so sure why he had been worried by it before- it was beautiful, in a way. Fire burned, yes, but it warmed too. You couldn’t have one without the other. 

Finally, Tobin looked to War and saw her. 

She wasn’t blurry anymore, but sharp and strange-looking, like someone had cut a photo of her out of a magazine and pasted it in the street. 

She had long, brown hair with gold beads tied in it one moment, then choppy short Auburn the next, constantly shifting. She was short and y’all all at once. She could be anyone, Tobin realized. That was probably the point. 

She smiled, and had fangs. 

Her sword was grasped firmly in her hand, the top scraping against the smooth, unblemished concrete. The cracks were gone. 

Tobin steeled himself and looked to her eyes and saw-

_ -blood, death, don’t you want to be able to hurt them like they hurt you, love is a funny word for weakness, isn’t it easier to hate, there’s so much wrong and you can fix it, follow me, follow me- _

-that they were clear red, no iris or anything. 

Tobin felt like he was going to be sick for a moment, but it passed. 

He stepped forward. She didn’t move. 

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Tobin walked close to War. Her hand tightened on the sword handle every step he took, then loosened. Besides that, she stayed still. 

Her horse whined after a while, and stomped his hooves. Neither of them turned to her, but quietly, Tobin said “It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The horse fell silent. 

Hours passed, or seconds, and then Tobin was close enough to War that he could reach out and touch her. 

He didn’t. 

The three of them stood like that for a while. Tobin could feel the warmth of the fire around them flare up, then cool, with no discernible pattern. Every once and awhile, one of them would blink. 

Tobin looked at her, and he smiled. 

Picking his words carefully, he said, “Everything is going to be okay.”

She flinched. 

Her hand loosened on the sword, and he heard it fall to the ground, but he didn’t look away from her.

“Things will get better. You’re going to be okay.”

She fell forward into him, shifting hands grasping desperately at his shoulders. He pulled her closer to him, and hugged her tight, not letting go when her body changed and not letting go when he could feel her nails prick his skin and not letting go when he could feel his shirt collar wet with tears. 

Eventually, War pulled away. 

Wordlessly, she got on her horse. 

She nodded at him, once, and the fire died down to a content warmth. 

They walked away from him. 

Tobin woke up. 


	4. Scorpio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, but- Tobin.” Leif closed his eyes, and Tobin stared at the light blue veins crisscrossing his eyelids, thought about how incredible it was that they were both alive at that moment, in that place, together. “Are you okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy it’s chapter four, or as I lovingly call it, the Friday interlude. This chapter is ALL character/relationship work, so now I won’t feel guilty about the total lack of character/relationship work!!
> 
> Next chapter should be up before Monday? Fingers crossed.

_ Scorpio- _

_ Today’s planetary alignment encourages you to stop hiding. Your emotions are your own, and now it’s time to face them head on. Acknowledge the bad and let it pass. As for the good- look it in the eyes and say “thank you for being here.” _

  
  


On Friday, Tobin didn’t sleep at all. 

He was a “beacon”, like Parker said, which meant that at least on some level, he was causing the apocalypse. 

Which wasn’t the best thing to hear. 

In any case, his precognition predicted the four horsemen, and it predicted War first, so if he didn’t sleep, he had no precognitions, so he didn’t predict anything, so nothing would come to pass. 

He just-

_ -hate hate hate, isn’t the emptiness almost nice, there’s safety in removedness, stop it stop, play nice, things with claws under beds, things with teeth in closets, if you don’t close your eyes it’s never dark, things hide in the dark- _

-needed a break. 

One break. A day. Was that so much to ask?

After Tobin’s…  _ thing _ with War, he walked back from The Library to his apartment. Leif was awake on the couch, watching a shitty sci-fi movie, and Tobin wordlessly joined him, watching past midnight. 

At around one, Leif turned to him, sudden and jerky. He paused the movie, and stared and stared at Tobin until he turned to face Leif back. 

Leif’s face was harsh, almost combative, as his eyes searched Tobin’s face, flickering to make eye contact before-

_ -please don’t push me away right now- _

-his face softened, and he reached his hand tentatively to rest on Tobin’s shoulder. His other hand followed course, Leif holding Tobin a foot and some away from him. 

Tobin couldn’t move. Didn’t want to. 

Leif let out a tired sigh and started to rub his thumbs back and forth. Tobin leaned into the gesture without noticing. 

After a long time, Leif said quietly “Are you okay, Tobin?”

Tobin stiffened minutely before relaxing again, despite his best efforts not to react. “Of course I am, man.”

Leif kept moving his thumbs. “No, but- Tobin.” He closed his eyes, and Tobin stared at the light blue veins crisscrossing his eyelids, thought about how incredible it was that they were both alive at that moment, in that place, together. “Are you  _ okay?” _

And Leif opened his eyes again and Tobin could hear what he was thinking like rushing water, too fast and white noise and distracting and loud and awful at once. And Tobin couldn’t drag his eyes away from Leif’s, couldn’t focus on anything but how blue they were, like the sky, like something he could fall  _ up _ into and never come down from, and Tobin-

_ -his eyes are so brown- _

-broke down and cried. 

-0-0-0-

Leif Donnelly had been Tobin Batra’s best friend since they met. Manny Johnson had called Leif a loser for learning how to solve a Rubik’s cube, and Tobin heard and marched right up to him, four feet of barely contained fury. 

Tobin was third grade royalty, magnetic in a way even the teachers fell prey to. He’d talk too loud during quiet reading, or laugh at the best part of the documentaries in science, but whenever someone tried to glare at him, he’d grin wide and gap-toothed, and they’d forget they were ever mad. 

Tobin marched away from all his friends playing pirates, Susie and Mark and Jay and Frank and Mary-Anne, and suddenly everyone was watching as Tobin said to Manny, “Don’t be mean because you feel less important.”

And then, he’d lifted his foot way up high and stomped on Manny’s toes. 

Manny had cried, and a bunch of kids laughed at him, and the recess duty had rushed over, but in all the commotion, Leif had looked at Tobin and Tobin had looked at Leif and they had shared a quick, small smile. 

From then on, they were inseparable

-0-0-0-. 

In Highschool, Tobin retained his strange charisma, cycling through romantic partners every week but somehow not leaving broken hearts behind- everyone he’d dated had bad things to say, sure, but many more good things.

Leif tried, fruitlessly, desperately, to keep up. He smiled at all the right times, laughed nervously at jokes he didn’t understand until it didn’t sound nervous anymore. Still, he always managed to rub people the wrong way, to seem ingenuine or cold. 

Tobin thought everyone else was dumb. 

Leif wasn’t cold at all. He burned hot, bright, fast, like a dying star. When Tobin started calling Leif “Supernova” in sophomore year, Leif had assumed it was a playful dig at his perpetual singleness. Tobin didn’t correct him. 

Mrs. Buchanan gave Tobin a B- on his english essay in junior year, an analysis of Romeo and Juliet. He’d argued that they were both acting stupid, that the whole thing could have been avoided if they weren’t so blinded by lust. She’d written in red pen, in the blank space on the last page, ‘love makes us stupid. That doesn’t mean it’s something to be avoided.’

At the time, Tobin pretended not to know what she meant. But the whole year, after every bet and dare and prank, he’d watch Leif’s eyes crinkle with laughter and think,  _ damn, she was right all along. _

-0-0-0-

When Leif went to college and Tobin went to prison, Leif visited him three times every week. On Wednesday, he’d complain to him about his professors, his homework, his roommate who always had his girlfriend over and made out with her loudly and enthusiastically, and Tobin would watch how he moved his arms as he talked, unnoticeable at first but more and more dramatic as he went on. On Fridays, Tobin would laugh about the food, and the classes he was taking on positive time usage, ramble on and on about a new idea he had for a website or an app or a gadget, whatever, and Leif would smile at all the right moments and laugh at the jokes he didn’t quite understand, and Tobin could feel warmth radiate off him. On Sundays, Tobin would sit on one side of the plexiglass barrier and Tobin would sit on the other and they’d just look at each other, phones held up to their ears but neither saying anything. 

-0-0-0-

There were very few secrets Tobin had ever kept from Leif. 

He never told him his birthday presents, or for holidays. 

He didn’t tell Leif about the string of one night stands he’d left scattered across the city the year after he graduated Highschool, all with blue eyes and a thin, tall frame. 

And he didn’t tell Leif about his precognitions. 

Leif had seen Tobin do and say a lot of crazy things. But Tobin didn’t want him to think he was actually crazy. 

If Leif left, he didn’t know what he would do. 

-0-0-0-

Tobin was crying into Tobin’s purple cardigan, snotty and gross, and Leif pressed his hands back around him, off his shoulders and down to his back. He pulled Tobin impossibly closer, and buried his face in his hair, and gently rocked him back and forth. 

Tobin had almost forgotten how nice it felt to be held like this. He hadn’t hung out with Leif in a few days, hadn’t cuddled in weeks. Tobin didn’t know it was so easy to miss someone he was always around. 

Eventually, Tobin’s sniffles slowed to a stop, but he didn’t pull away, and neither did Leif. 

“I have something I need to tell you,” Tobin murmured, “But you have to promise you won’t think I’m insane.”

In a testament to their friendship, Leif just nodded silently.

Tobin opened his mouth but nothing came out. His tongue felt heavy and alien in his mouth. He swallowed once, then twice. “I can read people's minds.”

Leif didn’t laugh, not even though it sounded like something out of their comic books, or the sci-fi movie paused on their tv. He didn’t pull back, even if he did still for a moment. Tobin could feel himself fall further in love. 

“For real?” Leif asked. 

“Yeah,” Tobin answered, “For real.”

Leif did pull back, then, and Tobin tried to ignore the loss. “So you know, then.” Leif stated, voice tinged with some choked, unreadable emotion. He was looking away, at some spot to the left and far behind Tobin. 

Tobin squinted. “Know what?”

Leif jolted and looked Tobin in the eye, and he saw-

_ -himself walking down the school hallway with the light framing his head like a halo, himself at work spinning around and around in his chair and grinning like he didn’t have spinach stuck between his teeth, himself eating Chinese takeout with Leif and trading muted smiles, his eyes, his mouth, his hair- _

-everything he hadn’t noticed. 

“Oh,” Tobin breathed. “ _ Oh. _ ”

“Oh,” Leif repeated, hollowly.

It occurred to Tobin, that Leif must think Tobin was aware, and that he didn’t reciprocate. 

Quickly, Tobin grabbed both of Leif’s hands in his own. 

Leif glanced down at them, then up at him. Tobin watched the gears turning in his head, and when Leif’s lips tilted up at the edge in the ghost of a smile, Tobin couldn’t help but lean in to kiss them.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I! Don’t! Know! Where! I’m! Going! With! This!!!!
> 
> If you see any typos, let me know pls! I have no beta. I haven’t even proof-read this yet, honestly. I just needed to put it out in the universe.
> 
> Your comments are always appreciated!! I’m not saying that they make me more likely to write more often, but I’m not not saying that, either. **wink wink, nudge nudge**


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